Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
I drop my hands to my hips. “Is that a challenge?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “It is. What do you say? Are you up for it?”
“Name the time and place.”
He glances around. Part of me wants him to offer an invitation to his home, but I’m still not sure if he’s interested in me on a personal level or if he keeps popping into my life because he’s that BIG of a board game fan.
“How about here? Tomorrow night.” He scratches his chin. “I’ll bring some food.”
I’m tempted to say it’s a date, but it’s not. It’s a game of Turquoise Crown and some dinner. I don’t want any surprises, so I ask a simple question before I agree to his terms, “It’ll be just the two of us?”
“Just the two of us,” he accentuates each word with a nod of his head. “Are you game for that?”
I smile. “No pun intended, right?”
“It put a smile on your face, so I’ll claim it as intentional.”
Is he flirting with me?
“Does eight work for you?” he asks. “I can grab some Italian food if you’re a fan.”
“I’m a fan.” I nod way too exuberantly. “And eight is perfect.”
“I need to head to a meeting uptown. Can I leave the game in your trusty hands until tomorrow night?”
I place a hand on top of the wooden case. “I’ll guard it with my life.”
“I’ve received some pretty great gifts before.” He glances at the game again. “Not one of them is as special as this.”
I don’t know if that’s flattery at work or if he means it, but I take it to heart. “I like that you understand how valuable it is beyond its monetary worth.”
“It’s priceless,” he says in little more than a whisper. “I’ll be forever grateful to you for it.”
Even though I’m yearning for him to kiss me, I take two full steps back. I’m crushing on him, and I have no idea if he’s interested in me, or for that matter if he’s single.
“Thanks again, Opal.” He closes some of the distance between us with a heavy step but stops himself there. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night,” I say, as I mentally calculate how many hours I need to wait until I see him again.
18
William
“I know something about Opal Waverly that you need to know,” Lola announces as she strolls into my office.
“What?” I ask in a strangled tone with a whole hell of a lot of need crammed into that one word question.
She stops mid-step to study me. “Are you all right, William?”
I’m not. I’ve been off my game ever since I left Turquoise Crown earlier. I handled my meeting with my client like the professional I am and then walked to a subway stop, hopped on a train headed in the wrong direction, and instead of fixing that mistake immediately, I wandered around for almost an hour in a neighborhood I haven’t been to in years.
It would have been a colossal waste of my time if I hadn’t spent every second of it remembering what it felt like to hold Opal in my arms.
Her body fit snugly against mine in a way that only made me want, no crave, more. I ended the embrace quickly, even though I wanted to hold onto her for hours.
I’m falling into a hard like with her, and that’s not good. It’s a fucking disaster.
“I’m fine,” I say, adding a smile to back up my false claim. “What were you going to tell me?”
My question is oozing with all the nonchalance I can muster. I can tell Lola buys it because she turns her phone toward me so I can see what’s on the screen.
I squint slightly at an array of small images. “What am I looking at here?”
“Vintage pill boxes.”
I motion for her to hand me the phone as I push to my feet. “Pill boxes? My grandfather has a plastic one he loads up each week with the meds that keep his heart pumping. You’re telling me Opal collects those?”
It’s a quirky hobby, but I’m all for finding what feeds your passion.
“No.” Lola shakes her head, laughing as she does. “She collects these types of pill boxes. They’re works of art, William. Each is unique.”
Her phone lands in my palm, so I look closer at the images on the screen. I scroll down for good measure, noting how each small pill box does indeed look like a masterpiece of craftsmanship.
Many are square and decorated with what looks like miniature floral paintings. Others are circular and crafted from silver. A couple of those are etched with a brushed design on the lid and along the side. Each one is small enough that it would fit in the palm of my hand.
“You know this how?” I ask.
That sends her smile crashing into a frown. “Since when do you question my knowledge of a client?”